Content Warning: Contains themes of a sexual nature.

This year is about making peace with who I am and who I want to be. My 30s have been about educating myself about things that would horrify my mother. I’m learning more about sex and decided I didn’t want any surprises on my wedding night. I bought a vibrator so I could make sure I wouldn’t have incredible pain or fly out of my seat due to an involuntary muscle spasm. 

I had read several different comments from disabled people that they don’t even enjoy sex because of the pain, or something embarrassing that happened during one of their sexual encounters. So I decided I would take matters into my own hands. I did a couple of different web searches and ordered one off of Amazon. Everyone gets Amazon packages. No one would know what I bought.  

I took the purple wand out of the sleek black box. I didn’t want any of the realistic-looking ones. They freaked me out. I’m perfectly okay with acknowledging that there will be a human attached to the body part. I will love that person, not just their body, so that I can overlook appearances. 

I turned the vibrator on and stuck it between my legs. Then, I realized my legs spread on their own. 

It stretched my hips and made me less sore. My bladder spasms were less frequent. Every time my roommate left the house. It felt great. I even worried I was addicted to using my vibrator twice a day. 

I took a break the past few months because I never had time alone. So, I decided to educate myself. I grew up in a Catholic household and went to Catholic school until college. Made dirty jokes with friends and knew basic things you learn in health class. I decided to seriously do some research. I’m listening to the podcast Sex with Emily on Spotify. I’m reading Come As You Are by Dr. Emily Nagoski. I realized there wasn’t much about people with disabilities, and now I want to be a sex educator. I don’t know if I’ll see it through, but I’m enjoying the ride so far.